The Eyewall
by VeryDissatisfiedCrow
Summary: Ever since that night where Jade's stunt humiliated and injured Tori, the hatred between the former friends had been at its peak. Then, mother nature trapped the feuding pair together.
1. Chapter 1 - A New Record

**Author's Note: **Thank you for reading! I was aiming for something that straddled the line between the show's humor and something a bit more dramatic. If you can, please leave me a review (good or bad)!

**CHAPTER I**

**A New Record**

Tori had stewed in anger for the entire summer. She'd waited three full months for that opportunity – the chance to give Jade a piece of her mind.

Their relationship had always been a complicated one. For the last couple of years, they were something that could easily be considered friendly. And Tori was not one to hold onto grudges.

But Jade's little stunt last June on what should have been the greatest night of Tori's life was a bridge too far. Jade merely wanted to grossly humiliate her; she hadn't anticipated Tori actually getting physically injured by her antics.

No. That, in her view, was purely a bonus.

"Ow, agh," Tori winced, leaning down to adjust the ACE bandage wrapped tightly around her left ankle. The white gauze padding peeking out from beneath the bandage was stained with dried bloodspots, courtesy of an emergency procedure the week prior.

"What's the matter, Tor?" she heard a snarky voice say, "you hurt yourself?"

The moment had arrived. Tori's head snapped up.

"Two surgeries, Jade!" she seethed, pointing at her ankle, "two surgeries, dozens of my summer hours pissed away on physical therapy, and missing out on being an instructor at USC's voice camp!"

Tori cringed again as her ankle throbbed.

Jade feigned sorrow, "oh, no! How unfortunate for Miss Perfect!"

Tori slammed her locker shut as hard as she could; the noise drew the attention of the entire Hollywood Arts commons. She held fast directly in Jade's face. Jade folded her arms, refusing to budge.

"Have something to say, Tori?"

"I'm warning you, Jade," Tori growled, looking straight into Jade's eyes, "stay the hell away from me."

"Or what?" Jade snidely replied, "you gonna chase after me?"

She tapped – or, more accurately, kicked – Tori's injured ankle with her foot. A jolt of pain shot up Tori's lower leg to the knee – it was as though someone had rammed a red-hot, two-foot-long needle through the bottom of her foot.

"Ow!" Tori yelped, "goddammi-"

"Alright, alright, ladies," Vice Principal Dickers bellowed as he approached the pair, "you both need to cool off."

"But she-" Tori began.

"-but she-" Dickers mimed her in a mocking nasal tone.

He pointed at her, "That's you. That's what you sound like."

Tori rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "oh, that's very mature..."

"What was that, Vega?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Jade sneered, "if you'll excuse me, Tori, I need to get to class. And I can actually do it without looking like a crippled Snow Goose."

She turned and started to walk away. Impulsively, Tori snatched the cup of coffee out of Dickers' hand and hurled it at the back of Jade's head. Unfortunately, her aim was off and the cup smashed against the wall wide left of her target. Coffee splattered everywhere.

Jade didn't even skip a beat. She continued walking, flipping Tori off as she rounded the corner.

"Vega!" Dickers roared, grabbing her by the upper arm, "my office. Now!"

"Okay, okay," Tori conceded, "just...ow! Watch the ankle!"

She was fully prepared to face the consequences of her actions, but she had at least hoped to give Jade some burns and perhaps a concussion on her way down.

* * *

"Wow, maximum sentence," Robbie remarked as he read over Tori's disciplinary slip at lunch, "a Saturday detention, barred from the small-group choir indefinitely, prohibited from attending any Fall festivities including, but not limited to: AutumnFest, Hollywood Arts Appreciation Night, and the homecoming dance."

Tori exhaled.

Robbie flipped over the page, "hey! There's more on the back!"

He continued reading the line of items: "...prohibited from attending the Hollywood Arts Coffee and Breakfa-"

Tori grabbed the paper from his hands, "-yeah! I read the slip!"

Andre chuckled and shook his head, "man, that's gotta be a punishment record for the first day of scho-"

Tori shot him a venomous glare mid-sentence. He clammed up, "-nevermind."

A sudden gust of wind blew through the cafe.

"So windy," Cat remarked, putting her elbows down on her school papers to keep them from blowing away.

"It's because of some unusual weather patterns off the coast of Mexico," Robbie explained, "Anybody wanna hear more?"

"No," the rest of the gang responded at the same time.

Just then, a familiar voice came from behind Tori and Andre, "Hey, Tori. You really nailed that wall this morning, congrats."

"Easy, girl," Andre calmed Tori, putting his hand on her back.

"What do you want?" Tori fumed at Jade, her eyes staring at the table.

"Well," Jade began, "I just wanted say that I'm sorry."

"Okay? See! Everybody's good," Andre lauded, "everybody's good."

Jade continued, "yeah, I'm sorry that you didn't tear your other achilles' tendon, too. Also, some broken ribs would've been nice."

"Jade, c'mon," Robbie lightly rebuked her, "that's not necessary. You're going a little fa-"

Tori cut him off, "-no, no, Robbie, it's okay."

She stood up – perhaps a bit too quickly as evidenced by the grimace that she did her best to hide – and turned around, shooting daggers at Jade. She wasn't anywhere near finished with her from earlier that morning.

"I thought I told you to stay away from me," Tori gnarred.

"You just looked like you had something to get off your chest," Jade prodded. She leaned towards her, "and by the way, what happened in June – you had every bit of it coming to you after what you did to me. In fact, I'd say you got off easy."

Tori stared back at her, the fury boiling over in her eyes. Not even Trina had experienced the level of anger that she was feeling.

Andre stepped in between them, "okay you two, that's enough. Jade, just...get outta here. I'll text you later."

Jade scoffed and, once again, started walking away. As if by encore, Tori grabbed the nearest projectile – in this case, Robbie's bottle of "Devil's Reserve Hell-Fire Hot Sauce". Unfortunately for her, the control-pour cap was off and, as her arm swung out, the fiery sauce splattered directly into Cat's eyes, nose, and mouth.

Cat let out a horrifying squeal and put her hands over her face.

"Tori!" Robbie reprimanded her, immediately going to Cat's aid. The petite redhead coughed, sputtered, and gagged.

"Oh God, Cat, I'm so sorry!" Tori apologized, pulling a handful of napkins from the dispenser on the table.

"For crying out loud, Vega!" she heard Vice Principal Dickers' voice from behind her, "you may have just broken a disciplinary record that was long thought untouchable."

"I told you there was a record!" Andre proudly proclaimed.

Tori sighed in exasperation and crossed her arms, "office?"

"Get moving."

Dickers reached for the now half-full bottle of hot sauce, "also, I'm confiscating this. I have steak tacos for lunch."


	2. Chapter 2 - Iron Ore

**CHAPTER II**

**Iron Ore**

Tori peered up at the clock: 8:42 AM – three hours and eighteen minutes left in the first of now two Saturday detentions back-to-back.

She was all by herself in the library. Nobody else, of course, had been fortunate enough to earn a Saturday during the opening week of school. At least her parents didn't make much noise about it. They knew about her running feud with Jade and wanted no part of it.

She let out a mighty groan and put her head down the cold table.

"Ughh..." she moaned as her ankle pulsated in pain. She reached down and tenderly massaged it with her left hand.

Just then, Vice Principal Dickers entered, munching on a raspberry danish.

"Don't you think two of these is a little harsh?" Tori asked, "besides, you've forbidden me from pretty much anything fun or exciting this Fall."

Dickers shook his head, "no. In fact, the school disciplinary handbook technically gives me the right to send you to prison for three weeks."

Tori looked back him with confusion.

"Handbook was written in 1924," Dickers explained, taking another bite from his pastry.

"Well, can't you at least lift the ban and let me sing in the small-group choir?" she pleaded, "we were going to do a Joan Baez medley and I was slated to have a solo. We've qualified for nationals the last six years straight and I've been practicing all summer."

"Nice try, Vega the Lesser," he shut her down, though he was a tad conflicted considering that Tori _did_ have a beautiful voice. Still, he was far too entrenched in the game of disciplinary hardball, "that was premium Colombian coffee that you wasted, not to mention we have a zero tolerance policy for violence towards other students."

"Violence?" Tori retorted, "did you guys not hear about what Jade did to me this past Spring?"

"I'm not getting involved in your personal life, Vega," the vice principal replied, "Besides, that all happened at the Los Angeles Theatre; it's out of our jurisdiction."

"Of course..." Tori mumbled to herself.

Dickers finished off the danish, "now sit there and actually try to get some work done."

He wiped a spot of icing from the corner of his mouth and exited the library.

* * *

It was just past noon that Monday when Tori limped by the auditorium on the way to lunch. She heard a beautiful voice singing a mournful tune accompanied by a piano, the end of each line capped by a spectacular and powerful vibrato.

"_The iron ore poured as the years passed the doorrrrr..._

_The drag-lines and the shovels, they was a-hummingggg..._

_'Til one day, my brother failed to come hooome..._

_The same as his father before hiiiiimm..."_

She had an idea of who was behind the voice and it made her sick to her stomach. Still, she quietly slipped in and took a seat in the back. Just as she had suspected, Jade was standing on-stage in front of a microphone. Behind her, a half-circle of fourteen to fifteen students stood in silence during her solo, gazing at her with unanimous admiration.

Tori's eyes narrowed. That was _her _spot, the one for which she had been training the entire summer – injured ankle or not. And that song was set to be _her _signature. What made it even worse was that Jade actually sounded good. No, actually – she sounded fantastic.

"Amazing work, guys," Mrs. Larson, the choir director, clapped, "Jade, you were brilliant. I was all ready to hand the torch over to Tori, but you – you just knocked it out of the park."

From the corner of her eye, Jade noticed Tori sitting in the rear of the spacious hall, "why thank you, Mrs. Larson. I guess that Tori just didn't care enough about this choir to keep herself out of trouble."

Tori wanted to vomit.

"Yes, it's a shame," Mrs. Larson agreed, "this is a big year for us."

The lightbulb went on in her head.

"Oh!" she announced, "I almost forgot: on Friday, I got a letter from our sister school in Tokyo! They've invited us to perform for them during Thanksgiving break."

The group excitedly chattered amongst themselves.

"It's all on their dime," she continued, "it's gonna be great!"

Now Tori really wanted to vomit. Japan was atop her list of places that she absolutely needed to visit.

She slumped back in the folding chair.

"Okay all," Larson dismissed the group, "excellent job. See you all on Wednesday."

The group filed out of the auditorium past a despondent Tori. Jade didn't say anything to her, but made sure to "accidentally" trip over her crippled ankle as she walked by.

"Son of a-!" Tori began to swear.

"Ah, Miss Vega!" Mrs. Larson heard her outburst, "Good to see you. What brings you here?"

"Just heard someone singing and thought it sounded good," she replied, adjusting her bandage, "but then I saw it was...her."

Mrs. Larson smiled, "yes...yes, she's something. I do regret that we won't have you aboard this year, though. I was all ready to make you the lead soloist after your impressive showing at last spring's open house."

Tori sighed, "and I don't suppose there's any way you can talk Dickers into reinstating my privileges..."

The teacher leaned up against the piano, "no, unfortunately. And believe me, I went to bat for you, told Rob that we needed you and that you had worked so hard for that slot."

"And?"

"He just went on this rant about Colombian coffee and zero tolerance."

Tori could feel her heart dropping into her stomach. Mrs. Larson placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry, Tori. I was really looking forward to working with you."

Tori didn't say anything in response.

Mrs. Larson didn't know what else to say besides a sorrowful "next year, darling." She gathered her notebooks before walking up the auditorium aisle and out of the back doors.


	3. Chapter 3 - Madeline

**CHAPTER III**

**Madeline**

"And now let's send things over to meteorologist James Harrington. I understand we have some intriguing tropical weather potentially in the works."

The gang joined a large group of students watching the news broadcast from the large monitor hanging in the school commons.

The well-groomed weatherman stood in front of the green screen, an overhead view of the Pacific Ocean and west coast of the United States behind him. The focal point was a large mass of swirling clouds churning just offshore Mexico.

"Indeed we do, Pat," said Harrington, "meet newly formed Tropical Depression Nine, expected to become Tropical Storm Madeline later this afternoon."

"Aw," Cat gushed, clutching her hands together and placing them under her chin, "she's adorable!"

She was immediately shushed.

Harrington continued, "Has a good chance of strengthening to a hurricane by the end of the week. And if we take a look at the forecasted path that our models say she may take..."

The graphic behind him changed. A line extending from the storm's center ran up through the ocean off the coast of Mexico before abruptly hooking sharply to the northeast, crossing into California and passing right near the dot labelled "Los Angeles".

There were a few quiet gasps from behind the cameras at the studio.

"I'll just remind our viewers that according to our research, a hurricane has not made landfall on the Pacific Coast of the United States since 1858. So, what explains why this is happening now? Well, let's start off with..."

Tori just barely caught the weatherman's explanation – something about historically warm waters in the Pacific and weak upper level winds – as she passed by the now-concerned masses on the way to the guidance office where she had been summoned by Mr. Lane Alexander.

Each school year, the University of California Berkeley's College of Theater, Dance, and Performance Arts picked one student from the Los Angeles area to attend a two-week intensive during the winter recess between semesters. The clinic featured vocal training at the University's state-of-the-art facilities and the opportunity to work with some of the world's most respected voice coaches. Hollywood Arts had sent students for the past twenty consecutive years.

Tori was selected sometime in late summer. The University had promised to send her the details of where and when via the guidance office.

Things had been unanimously falling the wrong way for her across the past few months. This, the one juncture that hadn't been nullified, was a substantial ray of sunshine in the fog.

"You wanted to see me?" Tori asked, walking into the office and closing the door.

"Ah, Tori," Lane confirmed, "please, have a seat."

Gingerly on account of her ankle, Tori sat down in the chair facing his desk.

"What's up?"

He produced a tri-folded piece of paper, a letterhead reading "_University of California Berkeley - College of Theater, Dance, and Performance Studies_" at the top.

"Awesome!" Tori said cheerfully, her mood instantly brightening, "they said they would send me details about the time and place sometime in September. I can't tell you how excited I am to-"

Lane put his hand up, "-yeah...Tori, I'm going to get straight to it. I'm sorry to tell you this, but Berkeley has rescinded its invitation."

Tori stopped in her tracks.

"...what does that mean?" she asked, even though she knew the answer to her question.

"It means that they're no longer inviting you to the voice intensive."

"Well why?" Tori stammered, "what...do they give a reason?"

He scanned over the letter, "they don't...say specifically. All they do say is that it has to do with issues concerning your behavior and conduct. Here."

Lane handed Tori the paper. She immediately started reading it to herself.

_Dear Miss Vega: _

_We regret to inform you that we have decided to revoke our earlier invitation extended to you by our university. While we cannot and will not divulge specifics, we can tell you that recent egregious infractions in your behavior and conduct were brought to our attention. _

_Understand that we still believe you to be an exceptionally talented and skilled vocalist, hence why you were selected in the first place. However, these reports of your comportment were deemed troubling enough to warrant this decision. We expect all of our students to carry themselves with dignity and poise. This policy extends to invited guests as well..." _

Lane leaned back against the wall behind his desk and folded his arms, looking at her with a quiet regret, "I...don't know what to say, Tori. I'm...not exactly sure how to handle this."

He sighed, "Berkeley has never taken back an invitation to one of our students before."

Tori was dumbfounded. All she felt was a white-hot mixture of fury and embarrassment bubbling to the surface.

"Why?" she asked, her eyes staring directly at the floor, her voice trembling, "I want to know why."

Lane tented his fingers, "I can't speculate here, Tori. It wouldn't be ethical."

She said nothing in return.

"I'm sorry, Tori, I really am."

She half-expected to burst into tears, but instead, a force of pure rage seemed to take over her body. Without saying a word to Mr. Alexander and with the letter still in her hand, she stood up and whipped her bag across her shoulder. She kicked the chair with her non-injured leg.

"Tori, don't-" the words were just barely able to leave Lane's mouth before Tori stormed out and slammed the door behind her.

With her fury boiling over, she made a beeline straight for Vice Principal Dickers, standing at the base of the main staircase with a paper cup of coffee. She completely disregarded the throbbing pain that shot up her ankle.

She shoved the letter directly in his face.

"What the hell is this?"

"Better watch that tone, Vega," he warned her, "you're already in enough trouble."

She persisted, "what did you tell Berkeley? They just retracted my invitation!"

Dickers calmly took a sip of his coffee, "and the way you're acting, I don't blame them. Now I'm giving you five seconds to-"

"-what did you tell them? I want to know. Right now."

He raised his eyebrows, "are you kidding me, Vega?"

By now, the altercation had attracted the attention of the entire commons.

"Just so you know," Dickers added, "I didn't say anything to Berkeley. Believe it or not, I was one of the people who recommended you."

He finished off his coffee and crumpled the cup.

"I get that you're upset, so I'm letting you off this time," Dickers said, "but I better not hear another word from you for the rest of the day."

He straightened out his jacket and turned away from her.

"Fucking asshole," Tori said to herself. Unfortunately, it wasn't quiet enough.

"Alright, Vega!" Dickers barked, turning around, "two weeks, after-school detentions. And let's throw in a couple of Saturdays in there, too! Anything else you'd like to say?"

Tori simply glared at him in defiance.

"Didn't think so."

With that, he swiveled and walked around the corner, out of sight. Just as he did, another voice spoke up from the staircase.

"That was great, Tori," Jade taunted, walking down the steps, "when I got in touch with UCB and told them about you, I expected tears-"

She smiled, "-but getting into a verbal row with the vice principal? That was perfect."

There was so much that Tori wanted to say, but she couldn't manage to find the words.

Jade seemed to bask in her conflict. She reached into her pocket and produced a folded piece of paper, "oh! And I'm so glad you're here. I have great news."

She unfolded it and started to read:

"_Dear Miss West, due to the untimely withdrawal of our previous selection, we are thrilled to invite you to our two-week voice intensive at our University during this year's winter recess-" _

Tori grabbed the letter out of her hands and tore it into pieces.

Jade sneered, "gotta work on that temper, girl. Might hurt yourself."

She delivered another kick to Tori's injured ankle. Tori cried out in agony. The pain forced her to sit on the ground, clutching at her lower leg.

Jade adjusted her bag on her shoulder and disappeared around the corner, leaving a broken Tori on the floor of the commons, all eyes staring at her in silence.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Island

**CHAPTER IV**

**The Island**

"_Hello everybody and Happy Friday. We hope are you enjoying our coverage of the Dodgers' game this evening. _

_Our top story tonight: high tides and dangerous rip-currents for beachgoers along Mexico's Baja Peninsula as Hurricane Madeline continues her trek northwards. _

_The category one storm is being watched closely by officials in our area. A majority of the latest model runs have the system making landfall on the southern California coastline between Santa Barbara and San Diego sometime early next week, though it is expected to weaken by that point. We will have much more for you on our broadcast after the game but, until then, take care." _

* * *

"It's a beautiful house, Tori," Andre noted as they travelled along I-110 southbound to Balboa Island, "Cat's family just restored it last summer."

Cat squealed with excitement from the back seat.

Tori needed the break, even if just for a weekend. In a sea of losses, she did achieve one lone win: talking Vice Principal Dickers out of those extra detentions after her outburst. Granted, she was unsure of how she did just that but, at this venture, it wasn't important anyway.

It was a trip made on short notice. Tori was sitting in the last class of the day, Oriental Theater – the school board planned to discuss a name change to something more politically correct at the next meeting – when she received the text from Andre:

"_Hey Tor. Cat invited us to stay at her vacation house on Balboa this weekend. You wanna join? You'd just have to pack as soon as you get home. I'll pick you up at around 5:15." _

Tori felt it a chance to temporarily get away from the past couple of weeks. She texted back:

"_No Jade?"_

Andre responded almost immediately:

"_No Jade. She and the small group choir are performing the National Anthem at the Rams' game versus the Jets on Sunday." _

Tori had mixed reactions to that answer. On one hand, it meant she didn't have to put up with Jade for a whole weekend. On the other, performing the national anthem at a major sporting event was yet another thing that Tori had always wanted to do.

But despite this, she could already feel her mood lifting as the car left the highway.

"That reminds me," Tori said while they were stopped at a red light, "where's Robbie? And Beck?"

"Beck is coming later tonight. Robbie said he couldn't make it," Andre replied, "he's going to visit his grandmother."

Andre turned to Cat, "you remember his grandmother, don't you, Little Red?"

Cat stared back at him.

"Yeah. I remember her. She was the woman who said that I wasn't good enough for her grandson and implied that my hair color was the result of my deeply-seeded hatred for my mother and undiagnosed chemical imbalances."

Tori's eyes widened slightly. That was an unusually cogent answer from Cat.

"Yeah! That's the one!" Andre responded, a bit too cheerfully. Tori frowned and lightly slapped him on the arm, mouthing the word "stop".

"And what about this hurricane?" Tori continued.

"Not to worry," Andre assured her, "if it does make landfall on the coast, it's not expected to arrive until Tuesday morning at the earliest."

He took a swig of his soda.

"Besides," he remarked, "weatherman says it's going to weaken to a tropical storm before reaching us."

"Isn't that still bad?"

"Dunno," Andre responded as he made a left turn, "your boy here is equipped for earthquakes and wildfires, not tropical weather."

"Equipped?" Tori raised her eyebrows, "the last time we had an earthquake, you screamed like a pre-teen girl at a concert and dove underneath the table."

Andre tugged at the collar of his t-shirt, "Saw a wasp. You know I'm allergic."

* * *

They crossed over the Marine Avenue bridge onto Balboa Island just before sunset. It was a quaint little harborside community, complete with shops, restaurants, and small-lot residences, all crammed onto an island a bit less than two miles long.

"Here we are," Cat announced. Andre pulled into the spot along the curb at the front of the house.

The two-story bayfront home was indeed a beautiful structure. As with almost all properties on the island, its footprint was tiny – no more than around thirty feet wide. A cream-colored facade gave way to a shallow sloping roof in red.

Cat rifled through her bag and produced a key.

As Tori stepped inside, she was immediately taken by the white walls with a wide stripe of navy running along the top. There were few divisions between the downstairs rooms – likely owing to the small size of the house. The furniture was lightly colored in shades of tan and powder blue. Little pieces of nautical kitsch hung about.

"And if you'll come this way..." Cat grabbed Tori by the arm and pulled her upstairs.

"Okay, okay, slow down, girl," Tori urged, "watch the ankle."

Unlike the first story, this floor was divided into a hallway splitting off into two small bedrooms with two beds each.

"...you'll see the view from the back of the house," Cat proudly boasted, opening the sliding door at the end of the hall and guiding Tori out onto the balcony.

The back of the house looked out over the narrow strip of bay. A low retention wall, no higher than a foot or two, separated the house from a small beach that sloped down into the water. An expensive-looking yacht sailed lazily through the channel.

Tori felt the tension in her shoulders melting away.

"Cat, this is incredible," she said as the pair watched the yacht pass the house, "but how..."

She trailed off, realizing that it wasn't a question that she felt entirely comfortable asking.

Cat picked up, "you want to know how my family can afford a place like this, right?"

Tori folded, "yeah. Yeah, that was...yeah."

Cat smiled, "my great-great grandfather was one of the first people to buy property here – he was actually good friends with the guys who built the island, so he got a good deal. This house has been in my family since the 20's."

It was another unusually coherent answer from her.

"Here's your bag, Tori," Andre said through the open door behind them, "which room do you want?"

"Cat?" she asked her, "preference?"

"Take the room on the left," she replied, "it's the one I always choose when I'm here."

"Left room it is," Tori confirmed to Andre, "you want help with your stuff?"

"No...no," he answered, "in fact, Cat wanted to show me this spot at the far end of the island."

Cat looked at him with a blank expression.

"Spot?"

"Yeah," he said, "you mentioned that it was the best place to see the sunset over the bay."

Cat's memory clicked, "oh...right!"

Andre turned his attention to Tori, "tell you what. Why don't you stay here and just relax? Beck should be here soon. We'll bring back dinner."

She looked down at her ankle, "yeah, I probably should give this little lady a rest."

"Better get a move on, Cat," Andre gestured her downstairs, "we don't wanna miss it."

Tori limped down after them, "take your time, guys. We have all weekend ahead of us."

She watched through the front window as they climbed into Andre's car and drove off down the road.

In the newfound silence, Tori took a moment to take in the charm of the house around her. It _was _tiny, but it didn't feel the least bit cramped. She picked up a picture of a young Cat on the end table next to the couch, immediately recognizing her eyes.

Tori yawned. It hadn't occurred to her how tired she was. She kicked off her flip-flops and carefully climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Laying back on the divinely-soft bedspread, she knew that this was the diversion that she needed. Her problems would be waiting for her when she returned home, but that was all for later. As her eyelids grew heavy, she fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

"Beck!"

An angry voice shrieked from downstairs, waking Tori from her slumber.

"Beck! Pick up right now!"

Still partially dazed, Tori got to her feet, wincing as she put pressure on her injured leg. She crept down the stairs and rounded the corner.

There was Jade, standing in the middle of the living room, screaming into her phone.


	5. Chapter 5 - Camille, Andrew, Katrina

**CHAPTER V**

**Camille, Andrew, Katrina**

Tori barely had time to open her mouth before she heard her own phone ringing from upstairs.

"Ugh," she groaned, turning and jogging as fast as her injured ankle would carry her back to the bedroom. She dove across the bed onto her stomach, reaching for the nightstand.

_CALL FROM: ANDRE (213-228-4021)_

She hit the call button.

"Andre!"

"Hey hey, Tori!"

She sat down on the bed, "yeah, you wanna explain to me why Jade is here?"

"I'll explain everything if you take your phone downstairs and put it on speaker."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Tori sighed, "you know, you're killing my leg here."

With the greatest of effort, she limped back down the stairs. Jade was sitting on the couch with her arms folded. Her eyes came in contact with Tori's.

"What is going on here, Vega?"

"We're about to find out, I hope," Tori placed her phone on the coffee table between them and turning on the speaker. Neither of them realized, but it was the first semi-pleasant exchange they'd had with each other since the Spring.

"Can you hear me?" Andre's voice piped up.

"Yeah, we can hear you just fine," Tori responded brusquely, "what the hell is this?"

"Well," Andre began, "we got to talking and we were getting pretty sick of you guys being at each others' throats."

"Uh huh..." Jade followed along, growing more and more irate by the second.

"So, to make a long story short, we ditched you on the island. You're both going to be spending the weekend together. We'll pick you up Sunday evening."

Silence.

"You guys there?"

Tori picked up her phone from the table.

"Andre, my love," she addressed him sweetly.

"Yes, my dear?"

She placed the microphone directly by her mouth, "ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE?!"

Jade snatched the phone from Tori's hands. All things considered, she was staying remarkably calm.

"Hey Andre, Jade here."

"What can I do for you?"

"First off," she started, "what's to stop us from just getting a cab or an Uber back to L.A.?"

"Mmm...we considered that possibility," Andre said, "...it's gonna be pretty hard without your wallets."

"Uh...dude, I have my wallet right..."

Jade reached into the front pocket of her suitcase and fumbled around with her hand, "oh, come on!"

At the same instant, it dawned on Tori that Andre had taken her wallet out of her bag when he brought it upstairs.

"Wait," Tori put her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes, "how do you expect us to eat without money?"

Her stomach grumbled in protest. The last meal she had eaten was lunch, a serviceable burrito from The Grub Truck on campus.

"Your mom has connections with the Talley Cafe, that small diner on the island. It's three blocks down from the house. Just mention your names and they'll hook you up whenever you want."

"Hang on," Tori balked, "my mom knows about this?"

"Oh, she actually endorsed it – said that you needed an attitude adjustment or something super corporate like that."

She heard a voice in the background, "okay, folks, who had the brisket sandwich?"

Andre hopped back on, "-sorry, Tor, I gotta let you go. Our food is here. We're at that new barbecue pl-"

Tori huffed and pressed "End Call" and tossed her phone onto the couch. Silence returned to the house, save for the faint ticking of a wall-clock made from the wheel of a ship.

After a few moments and without saying a word to Jade, she turned and limped back up to her bedroom, collapsing onto the soft mound of covers. She would deal with this situation tomorrow.

* * *

Tori awoke early on Saturday morning – a little too early for her liking. She rolled over and blindly felt for her phone on the nightstand before remembering that he had left it on the couch downstairs.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, hoping that she had just dreamed the events of the night prior.

With delicate ease, she set her feet on the ground and tiptoed to the door of the room across the hall. She peeked in; Jade was fast asleep on the bed.

"Dammit," she muttered to herself.

For the moment, though, her belly was the bigger concern. She suddenly remembered the diner that Andre had mentioned.

"Well," she thought, "might as well check it out."

First, though, she needed a shower and a change of clothes. The slept-in look wasn't her style.

* * *

She stepped outside in a UCLA tee, a pair of black leggings that were far too expensive, and flip-flops. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. It wasn't her best work by any stretch, but it was comfortable enough.

The skies above were unusually cloudy for a SoCal morning. A mighty gale howled through the buildings. In the distance, she could hear the crashing surf. It sounded angrier than usual. As she walked down the block, she noticed that she had the streets almost completely to herself – there was not a single other soul or vehicle out and about, save for a aging man with a beard sweeping out in front of his trinkets shop.

After entering the restaurant, Tori scanned her surroundings. In kind with virtually every other building on the island, the diner was tiny. The interior was little more than four booths and a small L-shaped counter with stools. A white corkboard on the wall featured various black and white images of bygone eras in the restaurant's past. It wasn't the prettiest eatery – the tables and bar were matte-gray with a faux-marble texture and the booths were made of vinyl in a shade of goldenrod. But, as was the case with Cat's vacation home, it had a certain cozy charm to it.

The whiteboard on her right prompted customers to "_please seat yourself!_" She tugged at the waistband of her leggings before sliding into a booth and setting her phone down on the table.

Her eyes wandered up to the TV hanging above the counter.

"_-and passing the bill by a final tally of 72-27 with the one abstention being Doug Walker of District 19." _

The picture changed to show a live view of Venice Beach, the famous boardwalk practically deserted, the waves offshore washing much higher onto the sand than usual.

"_Our top story on this Saturday morning edition of Sunrise L.A., officials are calling it a potential catastrophe in the making..." _

The word "catastrophe" caught Tori's attention.

"_Hurricane Madeline taking experts by surprise during the evening hours, strengthening from a Category One to a Category Four storm over the Pacific with wind speeds now in excess of 150mph. Last night, the storm also made a much faster turn towards the California coast than anticipated." _

"Weathermen don't know shit," a graveley smoker's voice said. Tori looked up to see a gruff-looking older woman with short hair and circular earrings standing next to her table – estimated to be somewhere in her mid-to-late 70s. She was dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans.

"Excuse my language, hun," the waitress apologized to Tori, pouring coffee into the mug in front of her, "but just yesterday they said it was supposed to weaken when and if it hit us."

Tori politely nodded.

"You're Holly's youngest one, aren't you?"

Tori looked at her, "how'd you know?"

The woman smiled, "you have her face. Your mom used to come here when she was in college."

She extended her arm, "Carla."

Tori shook her hand, "Tori. Nice to meet you."

Back on the TV, the view of Venice had been replaced by a man standing in front of a looping satellite image.

"_Dean, we see this sort of thing from time to time in the Atlantic, but this is pretty unprecedented for us here in the Pacific. Madeline undergoing a remarkably rapid transformation – you'll see the tail end of it here – from a tropical storm to a Category Four storm." _

The weather anchor switched the screen behind him to a track projection.

"_And if you'll look here, you'll see that we're now able to refine our projections on landfall. If you're watching us from Santa Monica on down to San Clemente or even inland, we advise you to be on high alert. This goes for those of you watching from the city of Los Angeles, itself. The National Weather Service is expected to issue hurricane watches and warnings all along this section of coast by later today. Evacuations for the Channel Islands and Catalina will commence sometime around 10:00am this morning..." _

He brought up another graphic, this one with various numbers and figures.

"_We are now projecting landfall for early Monday morning. We__ are__ facing the potential of a storm surge – that's the amount of water above normal high tide – of anywhere from twelve to fifteen feet, rainfall exceeding sixteen to twenty inches in some places, not to mention winds in excess of 150mph." _

The weatherman finished with a stern message, his tone rattled, almost seeming to go off-script.

"_I implore all of you to take this storm seriously – this one...well, good Lord...this area has never seen anything like this in recorded history. Camille, Andrew, Katrina – these are all names that have become infamous in the Atlantic Basin. I am quite serious when I say that Madeline has a decent chance of joining them." _

Carla muted the TV with the remote.

"Must say, you picked an odd time to visit the island," she remarked to Tori.

Tori cocked her head, "yeah...I mean, it wasn't completely my choice."

She could sense Carla's confusion, "long story."

"You hungry?" Carla asked.

"I could eat, but..."

Carla shook her head, "it's all on the house. Same goes for your friend. It's the least I can do for your mom. She loaned me some money years back to help keep this place in business."

Tori didn't bother correcting her on the word "friend".

The food at the cafe was some of the best breakfast fare that Tori had ever eaten. The scrambled eggs were light and fluffy, the bacon was perfectly crispy without being dry, and the potatoes were perfectly browned with a touch of sea salt.

Her hunger more than satiated, she walked back to the house. When she entered the front door, she found Jade sitting on the couch, tapping at her phone screen. Tori glared at her, but didn't say a word. She started up the stairs to her room.

"Oh, by the way, Tor," she heard Jade call, "I hate you."

"Feeling's mutual, Jade," Tori shouted back dismissively, "don't talk to me."

Tori laid back on the bed and kicked off her flip-flops. Several hours passed. She busied herself with an e-book.

Sometime in the early afternoon, the doorbell rang. Tori propped herself up on the bed with her elbows.

"Afternoon, Miss," she heard a voice say from downstairs, "we're here with emergency services. In light of the storm, the governor has ordered a mandatory evacuation for all beach communities near L.A., including Balboa Island."

Jade's voice answered, "yeah, sorry, I'm going to stay put."

"Not an option, miss," the other voice responded, "in fact, it's state law that you must obey mandatory evacuation orders or else-"

"-my dad's a lawyer," Jade interrupted, "let's get in touch with him, shall we?"

Tori sprang to her feet. As she did, she landed in just the wrong way on her injured leg. She felt a pop along the posterior of her heel, followed by an agonizing rush of pain that surged through the back of her foot and ankle. She fell to the floor on her stomach. She opened her mouth to scream, but she was unable to make any noise at all.

"What was that?" the voice asked.

"My cat," Jade replied, "now, I think we're finished here."

With that, Tori heard the door slam shut.


	6. Chapter 6 - Bolts and Plywood

**CHAPTER VI**

Bolts and Plywood

"Oh, this is just wonderful."

Jade walked into the bedroom to find Tori sitting up on the floor, leaning back on her arms with her legs extended in front of her. A gentle misty rain dusted the window-panes with tiny droplets of water.

"When I heard you fall, I thought you'd had a heart attack."

She frowned, "kinda disappointed that I was wrong."

Tori groaned, her re-injured ankle throbbing in pain, "can you at least be human for once in your life and help me up?"

"I could," Jade responded, "or I might just let you sit there."

She hopped up on the bed and looked down at Tori.

"You know what? Screw this," Tori said before trying to stand, but the intense burning sensation that ripped through her lower leg forced her back down.

"Ow, fuck," she whined, "I think I re-tore my tendon..."

"Oooo," Jade leaned in, placing her hands under her chin and elbows on her knees in a child-like fashion, "that sounds painful. Tell us, Tor – how'd you do that in the first place?"

Tori rolled her eyes. She was in no mood for Jade's snarkiness. Though it hadn't been intentional, Jade was still on the hook for her injury.

"Jade, come on, just...help me up."

Jade grumbled. But after a moment, she reached out her hand and slowly helped Tori to her feet.

Tori found that even though she could still limp about, the newfound pain made it so that her only real option for mobility was by awkwardly shuffling around on one leg.

"Hey," Tori addressed her, "why did you send that guy away?"

"What guy?"

"The guy who was going to help us get out of here? Not sure if you're aware, but there's a major storm coming. And the last place I wanna be is on an island that's...you know...completely surrounded by water."

Jade flopped down backwards on the bed, "I think it could be kinda fun. I've always wanted to experience a hurricane first-hand."

Tori stared at her aghast, "fun? Jade, movie nights are fun. Beach volleyball is fun. Proms are fun-"

Jade snickered, "you mean like that little prom of yours that I ruined? Bonus points for getting the shrimp in your bra."

Tori rolled her eyes again, "what I'm saying is that being sliced in half by a flying stop-sign is not exactly my idea of-"

She stopped, seeing Jade's ears perk up at the suggestion, "forget it."

Jade stood up and started to walk out of the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Tori asked.

"Downstairs. Where else would I be going?"

"Well," Tori insisted, hopping along on her good leg, holding onto the dresser for support, "at least help me get down there, too."

"I only helped you stand up, Vega," Jade replied dismissively, "it's your job to get yourself the rest of the way."

She strutted out into the hallway, leaving Tori behind to figure out a way down the steps.

* * *

"That'll have to do," Andre said to himself as he finished securing the last bolt on the sheet of plywood across the window. He wiped the sweat from his brow. He'd never hurricane-proofed a house before, but he felt obligated to lend a hand to his ninety-four-year-old neighbor across the street. After all, she lived alone, was starting to slip into senility, and was deciding to stay put.

"I'm too old to go anywhere," she explained to him over a cup of tea that morning, "just have to hope that the good Lord will keep me safe, come what may."

Andre could hear his neighbor flipping through the television channels through the screen door. It seemed every station featured wall-to-wall coverage of Madeline.

"_Top story on this Saturday afternoon, Hurricane Madeline intensifying even further to the top tier of Category Five strength, becoming the eighteenth in recorded history to reach that level in the East Pacific-" _

" – _as the National Hurricane Center has bumped up landfall even further, saying that Madeline's very outer bands will start affecting the coastline by late tomorrow morning. An estimated four million people are in her path -" _

"_\- dropping to an astoundingly low 904mb, unheard of for this part of the world -" _

"_\- maximum one-minute sustained winds approaching 192mph, just under those of Hurricane Patricia in 2015-"_

" – _an offshore buoy recording a wave nearly seventy feet high -" _

" – _conducting evacuations from a wide swath of our viewing area: Santa Monica, Venice Beach, Long Beach, down to Oceanside and Carlsbad-" _

The rain had picked up ever so slightly to a drizzle. Every now and then, a gust of wind would howl through the largely empty street behind him, jangling the wind chimes his neighbor had hung on the awning.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed to life in his pocket.

"Hey Beck," he answered, "what's up?"

"Hey Andre," Beck said, "listen, this storm is coming in a lot faster than we expected. Just heard on the weather that the first bands will start moving through tomorrow morning. We need to call off Operation Jade Dragon and g-"

"Wait, wait," Andre interrupted, "Jade Dragon? I thought we were calling it Operation Las Vega."

"No no," Beck protested, "that was a different thing – remember? OLV was that time we had to get Tori to break up with her boyfriend – the one who we suspected was a closeted white-supremacist and just didn't know she was half-Latina."

"Hang on. Alex? You thought Alex...? He wasn't a white suprema—Beck, the guy was half-Algerian!"

It took Beck a few awkward seconds to respond.

"Oh...oops."

There was another uncomfortable silence.

Andre broke the deadlock, "yeah...so...anyway, what's the plan? I thought Balboa Island was under those mandatory evacuation orders."

Beck sighed, "they are. But I know Jade. There's no way she's going to leave. She's gonna dig in her heels – so long as she hasn't already used them to stab Tori through the eyes."

Andre chuckled, "you saw that movie, too, huh?"

Another silence.

"When can you be ready to head down there?" Beck asked.

"In a bit," Andre said, placing his phone on speaker and bending down to pick up another piece of plywood, "I'm kinda in the middle of helping my neighbor weatherproof her house."

He centered the wood over the window adjacent to the one he had just completed and started drilling, "it's about five now. I'll be done here in a couple of hours."

"Alright, man," Beck confirmed, "let me know as soon as you're finished. We've gotta get them out of there."

Andre placed a couple of bolts between his teeth.

"Will do, Beck. Talk to you in a few."

* * *

The dashboard clock had just flipped past 9:00pm as they neared the turn onto the bridge connecting the mainland to Balboa Island. The rain was now falling at a steady pace; the wind could be heard whistling through the palm trees in the darkness.

"Did you get in touch with Tori's folks?" Beck asked.

"Yeah," Andre responded, "they know we're going to get her and Jade right now."

"Hey," he addressed Beck, "what are you doing about your trailer?"

Beck shrugged, "the only thing I could do – secure it down and hope for the best".

Andre made a right onto the bridge.

"Hold up," Beck said, "what is this?"

He pointed ahead to the end of the road, completely blocked off by yellow and orange reflective barricades. Behind the barriers sat a police cruiser with its lights on.

They drove slowly up to the blockage. As Andre came to a stop, he heard a knock on his window. There stood an officer clad in a clear poncho and wielding a large flashlight. He made a downward gesture with his hand.

Andre rolled down the window, "evening, officer."

"Evening, fellas," the officer returned, "sorry, but access to the island is restricted, no re-entry until the storm passes."

Beck leaned over the center console, "but officer, we still have friends on that island. We were on our way to pick them up."

The officer shined his light in Beck's face, "son, this area's under a mandatory evacuation order. We had a team sweep through here earlier today, so I'm sure they-"

"-no no, you don't understand," Beck interjected, "this girl...one of the girls we know...she's...kinda crazy. Well...actually, _both _of them are crazy, but this one..."

Andre sensed Beck's struggle.

"What he's trying to say is that our friend would have fought tooth and nail not to evacuate," he picked up, "we know for a fact that they're still here."

"They don't have a car? And if not, the bridge to the mainland is, at most, only about two miles from anywhere on the island."

"No, see..." Andre tried his best to explain, "our one friend accidentally hurt the other friend and now that other friend can't walk all that well and they hate each other. We wanted to get them to make up, so we lied to them and lured them to this island and were planning to force them to spend the-"

Andre trailed off. The officer stared at him as though he had mushrooms growing from his ears.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," the officer mumbled, reaching for his shoulder radio, "never ends with you kids...where are your friends?"

"742 South Bay Front Ave."

"Dispatch," the policeman spoke into the receiver, "put me through to John G."

A few seconds of seconds of silence passed before a voice answered.

"Yeah, John G. here."

"Evening, Johnny. Got two gentlemen here who say that they have a couple of friends staying put at a house along South Bay Front."

Another pause.

"742?"

"That's it."

"Yeah, we went by that house three times today and every single time, the girl who lives there refused to evacuate, even when we brought up legal action. Got her to sign a waiver after the third time clearing us of any responsibility. Kids these days, Mark..."

"I know, Johnny. Well, anyway, be safe out there. Lemme know if there's anything you need."

"Will do."

The officer turned his attention back to Beck and Andre, "sorry guys. We can't forcibly pull people from their houses if they don't want to leave."

"But-" Andre started.

"Look," the officer said, placing his hand on the roof and leaning into the window, "I'll see what I can do. You fellas just need to go back to wherever you live and hunker down. This is gonna be a bad one."

No answer.

"You guys certainly don't wanna be out here when that tide starts rising. I can tell you that much."

With that, the officer walked back towards his patrol car, leaving Beck and Andre in stunned silence, save for the increasingly violent lapping of the bay beneath the bridge.


	7. Chapter 7 - Landfall

**CHAPTER VII**

**Landfall**

_"Good morning for those of you watching us from the Los Angeles area and, indeed, around the country and the world – just past 6:45am local time on this Monday morning. We have full-team coverage of historical Hurricane Madeline, the category five storm's outer bands moving ashore southern California as we speak. Experts predict that the storm's eye will make landfall sometime later this afternoon-"_

Tori stood upon the second-story balcony that morning, beneath the small awning looking out over the bay.

The normally calm waters were whipped into a frenzy. Every now and then, a mighty gust would roar across the deck, pelting Tori's face with rain. A small group of Western Gulls seemed to hang in the air, powerlessly flapping against the headwinds.

*Ping ping ping ping ping* – the grommets of the neighbor's American flag bounced off the metal of the flagpole.

On the small beach separating the house from the water below, two brave souls wearing bright yellow ponchos stood with their phones out. They were either recording the waves or a last will-and-testament; she wasn't entirely sure.

Another strong gale – this one knocked Tori off her feet and back against the sliding glass door.

"I hear you, girl," she said, as though speaking directly to the hurricane itself, "just take it easy on us, please."

An even stronger push of wind backed her up against the glass once more. That, it seemed, was the storm's answer to her request.

Tori slipped back inside and hobbled down the stairs. As soon as she hit the last step, the lights cut off.

"Terrific," she thought to herself.

It was at that moment she noticed Jade sitting at the kitchen table, playing with her phone.

Tori sidled up and silently sat down across from her. She leaned in, propping herself up on her elbows.

Jade took notice.

"What do you want?"

Tori smiled. Without saying a word, she reached over and snatched the phone out of her hands.

"Tori!" Jade barked, "give me my phone!"

With the utmost satisfaction and unwavering eye contact, Tori stood and tucked it down the side of her leggings.

"Ew!," Jade retched, "...get my phone out of your disgusting pants...right...NOW!"

Tori's cocked her head and, still staring directly into Jade's eyes, edged the phone down further between her skin and the fabric with her thumb, "oops."

Jade bared her teeth and snarled, "if my phone touches your disgusting underwear..."

Tori sat back down, "A little late for that. Now. Let's talk."

"Talk about what?"

"Everything that's been happening. Everything you put me through during the summer."

"What's there to talk about, Vega? You have been getting everything that you deserve and a whole lot more."

Jade gestured towards the window, "besides, there's a hurricane coming and you choose to discuss this now?

Tori shrugged, "the lights are out, we're probably gonna drown by this evening, and you're the reason we're still here."

She tapped against the table, "sit."

Seeing no other option, Jade reluctantly settled back into the chair. A few awkward seconds passed before the next word was spoken. The wind outside roared to fill the gap. With each powerful gust, the glass creaked in the windowframes.

"Okay," Tori began, "so, what's the deal? We killed it at the karoake invitationals in January. We had an amazing time with everyone at L.A. Fest last April. You even gave me a hug after I got selected by Cal to go to the vocal intensive. That would be..."

She counted on her hand, "...only the fifth hug you've ever given me, second off-stage."

Silence. Once more, a howling gust provided the only answer.

"So what changed?"

Jade nonchalantly pushed a coaster in circles with her finger.

"Yeah," she agreed, "yeah, all of those things were incredible. We were the closest we've ever been to actual friends."

Tori persisted, "So. What. Changed?"

Jade huffed, stood up, and started walking towards the stairs, "This is pointless. You know exactly what you did to me."

"Jade, just-"

Tori tried to limp after her, but was instantly stymied by the throbbing in the back of her ankle. She watched as Jade disappeared up the staircase.

"Jade!" she called, "Jade, this isn't going away! We're having this talk!"

No answer.

Just then, a pair of running shoes came tumbling down the stairs. Jade followed, her hair pulled back into a rare ponytail.

"What are you doing?"

Jade said nothing. She sat down on the doormat beneath the front door and started lacing up her sneakers.

"No," Tori protested, "you are not running away from this talk. And you are definitely not going outside during a hurricane."

"Stop me, then," Jade dared her.

"At least tell me where you're going."

"The docks at the edge of the island. You're welcome to follow if you wanna talk down there."

"Are you out of your mind?" Tori balked, reaching down to massage her ankle, "besides, I can't even walk."

"Exactly," Jade said as she finished tying her shoe, "now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with Madeline."

"Jade-" Tori grabbed her arm, "just...be reasonable."

Jade pulled her arm out of Tori's grasp. She pulled the door open and stepped outside, flashing Tori a final defiant glare as the wind whipped the door shut behind her.


End file.
